Can I just say Armin with an undercut is making me feral today 😫
Mina I fully understandddd. That soldier’s undercut on the AOT men surely hits different. Like imagine running your hands through it asfgfjvgj 😩
Warnings → MDNI (I'm not asking for much), Armin Arlert x fem!reader, fluff (who would've thought), established relationship, smut, slighly subby Armin (I will be heavily pushing this agenda), handjob, oral sex (fem receiving), hair pulling, y'all really love each other
W/c → 700+ words
When your lover's face comes into view, you can't stop your mouth from falling open. His long, golden locks are gone, and darker, unseen hair is now showing. He did say he was going to run some errands, but getting a haircut - a drastic one at that - wasn't what you had envisioned. He stands there expectantly, fidgeting and just looking at you, silently begging for approval. You fix your face, smiling softly at him. He looks amazing.
It's a sunny afternoon. Spring has just begun and there you are, basking in the peace of blooming nature. Armin lies on your lap as you lazily munch on some clementines. Even when you're swatting away the few ants that crawl over the blanket, he seems completely absorbed by the book he's reading. Truth is, he's been going over the same sentence over and over again. He can't focus. The way you're stroking his undercut doesn't give him the chance to.
Today's a special day, and Armin's pacing nervously in the corridor. He doesn't protest when you sit him in front of the mirror as you grab a few things from the bathroom drawer. You're quick to encourage him, whispering how dashing he looks, or how well everything will go. It never takes you any effort to have him in a better mood, it's become second nature. Brushing his hair is much easier, now that he's got a lot less of it. It's already styled, but he loves the light tugging of his favorite wooden comb. He feels much better now. You're his best support.
It's been a long day, and before you ask him anything, he grabs your hand, heading to the bathroom, face all downcast and gloomy. You know what he needs, and when Armin sits in the steamy water, he's grateful you always do. He carefully observes you gently pouring the shampoo on your hand. You somehow always know the exact amount, and it leaves him speechless. But even more impressive are your hands, gently massaging his scalp to work in the product. You play with his hair, childishly shaping it funny. He doesn't laugh, but he's cheerful now. How couldn't he be?
Armin groans as your hand slips down below. He jolts when you grab his cock, using your thumb to play with the head and smear the single drop of precum leaking from it. He shudders at the sensitivity. You've been edging him for some time now, denying him any relief from the sweet torture you're putting him through. When he begs you to cum, nicely at that, you're impressed by how he can still string coherent words together. His eyes shoot open when he feels you slow down, but his lashes get caught up in the hair that falls over his face. You don't miss a beat when you move away the sticky strands off his forehead, landing a kiss there. You almost purr when you ask him to keep his eyes on you. You were going to be the death of him.
And when he repays the favor, face in between your thighs, he's as merciless as you were. He slurps at everything he sees, unabashedly being loud. His nose is deep in your pussy, seldom tickling your clit, while his tongue darts from your opening, to your folds, to your inner thigh, to soothe any bites he leaves. Soon, your legs wrap around his neck: you're about to orgasm. Your hand instinctively lands on his head, rubbing his nape before tugging on the longer hair. The sting is intoxicating, having him roll his eyes backwards. He was going to cum with you.
When it's all said and done, he lies on your chest, his sweaty cheek flush with your sticky breast. His breath is still labored, and when he looks up at you, he can tell yours is too. Your legs tangle under the bed sheet, and when he feels you immobile, he's convinced you are sleeping. That is, until he feels your fingers play in his hair. You have fun twirling it, appreciating the golden sheen in the light of the bed lamp. Your voice is a lullaby and your heartbeat is the melody. As he drifts to sleep he's convinced. He loves you.
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